


Armed With Death

by DeanGirl2Y5



Series: Supernatural AU [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Dean Winchester, Gen, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanGirl2Y5/pseuds/DeanGirl2Y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's worst nightmare comes true...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armed With Death

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [this song here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yf9GqN9xxM). I started making a video like this with the song, but I lost it. I wasn't planning on posting the video anyway. Enjoy!

Dean Winchester knew his little brother wasn't stupid. Hell, he had gone off to college, leaving Dean alone with Dad.

Dean had also noticed someone following them constantly. While Sam was out getting food while they were in Nevada, Dean had looked out the window and saw someone watching him from across the parking lot. The figure wore a gas mask, a miner's helmet, and other mining gear, a pickaxe in his hand. The light on his helmet was on. Of course, Dean poured salt along the windowsill, in front of the door, and around his and Sam's beds. When he looked after he had done so, the guy was gone. He kept his gun on him at all times, even while they were disguised. The only time he didn't carry one was when there was a metal detector at the place they were investigating.

Maybe his three years in Hell got him paranoid beyond belief. Maybe he was just seeing things. Maybe he was being haunted. Maybe he was sick. He doubted all those options. There was no way he was just seeing things. He had checked if there was a sickness that made you paranoid/hallucinate, but there wasn't. He was half-tempted to call Bobby and ask him, but he'd ask why, and Dean didn't want to tell anyone what was going on. As for being haunted, he used the EMF meter on himself and nothing happened; it hadn't reacted at all. Maybe...

Dean shook his head to stop his wonderings and maybes. At that point, he was sitting in the Impala humming “Smoke on the Water” while Sam was questioning the cops about a death that happened the day after the Winchesters had come to town for a little vacation. Dean had wanted to come, but Sam told him to stay in the car. He looked in the rear view mirror and spotted that person again, immediately stopping his humming. Dean had lost count of how many times he saw this guy. He glared at the figure. There was no way he'd let the bastard hurt him or Sam. Not on his watch.

The guy was just standing there, watching him. People walked right by him, acting like everybody wore mining uniforms every single day. _How can they not see him?_ Dean thought. _He's right there!_

Dean heard the passenger door open, causing him to look at his brother.

“Well? Anything?” Dean asked, keeping his eyes on Sam.

Sam didn't answer, instead handing Dean the autopsy report which he took and read through.

Dean froze before looking at Sam, the figure he had seen constantly ever since he came back flashing before his eyes. “A pickaxe killed this guy?”

Sam nodded. “Stabbed right on top of his head,” he replied.

Dean quickly glanced in the rear view again, but the guy was gone. “You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered before handing the report back to Sam and driving back to the motel. He knew he should've expected this, but the guy made Dean nervous beyond belief and that was something that wasn't easy.

Sam didn't give any indication of hearing what Dean had said under his breath, which he was thankful for. He knew Sam had worried enough when he was trying to get Dean out of his deal with the crossroad demon. He didn't need to worry about whatever the hell was going on with Dean, which was why he decided not to tell Sam what happened in Hell. That was something he'd keep to himself until the day he died. Again.

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

They were back at Bobby's, and Dean had offered to get dinner, wanting to get out of the house even if it was for a few minutes. Bobby's and Sam's nervous glances to each other off-putted him a bit. He had proved to both of them that he was still human. Hell hadn't messed him up that much.

Dean parked his Impala. The one thing he missed in the Pit (besides pie, of course) was his car. He ran his fingers along the hood lovingly before heading over to the door. Suddenly, Dean got the feeling he was being watched. He turned around, seeing the man again. Dean immediately pulled his gun out of the back of his jeans and pointed it at him, glaring.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Sam, and Bobby,” he stated dangerously.

_Two days earlier, both he and Sam were investigating the mine a few miles from Bobby's house, posing as FBI agents. They split up, Sam checking out the rest of the mine and Dean looking for the guy in charge. While the miner was calling him on the phone in Tunnel Number 4, Dean checked out a chain-link chamber a few feet away from the phone. Suddenly, he was pushed into the chamber. Dean turned around, on his knees with one hand on the ground, and saw the guy that had been following him and Sam, mirroring his movements before bending the metal latch on the door with his pickaxe._

_Dean tried to escape before the guy could kill the miner. He even tried calling Sam, but there was apparently no cell service in that part of the mine._

_“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, kicking the door angrily._

_Dean pulled out his gun and tried to shoot the guy while in the act, but he expertly dodged each bullet. It was minutes before the other miners, along with Sam, showed up and got him out of the chamber. On the ride back to Bobby's, Dean had described what the guy looked like while Sam wrote it down._

Now, there the guy was, standing in front of Dean, gun aimed right at his heart. The only sound Dean could hear was the guy breathing in and out through his mask. He lifted his hand and turned on the light, causing Dean to shield his eyes from the brightness. When he went to look at him again, he was gone.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered before walking toward Bobby's door again. It took a few minutes for Dean to reach the door and open it. “Sam? Bobby?”

“In here,” he heard Sam's voice reply from the living room.

Dean walked into the living room, seeing Sam sitting on the couch. He tossed the salad to him with a smirk. “Enjoy your rabbit food, Sammy.” Dean looked around as his smirk disappeared, not seeing Bobby. “Where's Bobby?”

“In the garage. He's working on something,” Sam replied easily.

The older Winchester placed Bobby's food on the table before plopping down on the chair to eat his own. “Find anything on the miner-wannabe?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. From what I saw, no miners died in cave-ins, explosions, accidents, or even by a pickaxe.”

“What about Bobby?”

“Same.”

“Anyone die that looks like him?”

Sam shook his head again. “No one at all.” He took a bite of his salad, looking nervously at his older brother.

Dean flinched at that look. “Would you stop doing that?”

“What?”

“I'm not blind, you know.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“That nervous look! You've been looking at me like that ever since I came back! Same thing with Bobby! It's like you both think I'm gonna turn into some psycho or whatever! I was messed up down there, but not enough to become a demon, okay?”

Sam nodded, his focus now on his salad.

Dean angrily took a bite of his pie. _I'm human! I'm still human,_ he told himself vehemently. He finished the pie minutes later. Dean opened his beer and took a long swig of it before putting it back on the table, feeling a bit calmer, though he still didn't look at his brother. “I'm sorry, Sammy.”

“I should be apologizing, Dean.”

“No, you shouldn't. I've just been on edge ever since I saw the bastard. It feels like I'm going to Hell all over again.”

“It's all right.”

Dean looked over at Sam. He saw his hand was behind his back, but he pretended not to notice. Sam set his plastic bowl on the table and walked over to his brother.

“No, it's not. I'll admit I've been a dick. A paranoid dick.” Dean ran his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. He was half-tempted to mention about how he had seen the miner-wannabe ever since he came back from Hell, but he didn't.

Then, he felt the butt of a gun being bashed into his head, knocking him out.

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

The moment Dean heard metal colliding with metal, his eyes opened. He looked at his hand and saw it was handcuffed to a bookshelf. Looking down, he noticed he was sitting in the middle of a devil's trap. He saw the weapons bag just outside the trap.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

He had woken up in many positions throughout his life, but not this one.

_“Regna terre. Cantate deo,”_ he heard Sam's voice say.

Dean looked up and saw Sam with a book in his hand, attempting an exorcism.

“Sam,” he stated, rubbing his head. “What the hell?”

Sam looked at him before looking at a person standing at the window. Dean noticed it was Bobby.

“Bobby, what the hell's going on? Why are you trying an exorcism? I'm human.”

Bobby sighed. “I hate to say this, but it's the God's honest truth. Sam and I figured out who the killer miner is,” he stated, a reluctant note in his voice.

“What is it then? A vengeful spirit from a few towns over? A demon?”

He shook his head sadly. “It's you, Dean.”

Dean's eyes widened in shock. “It wasn't me! The night Darren Michaels was murdered, I was in our motel room. Sam was out getting dinner. And when that miner was killed, I was trapped in that chamber by the miner-wannabe! I couldn't have done it! He's a demon, I know it!”

The older man motioned for Sam to continue, which he did. Dean looked behind Sam and noticed himself, but he knew it wasn't actually him. His double was watching the exorcism with interest. Dean realized that it was his dream self, the one he had seen three months before going to Hell.

Dean glared at his double, causing Sam to stop the exorcism for a moment.

His double cocked his head in confusion before Bobby motioned for Sam to continue.

Dean looked back at Sam. “It's me. I'm no shapeshifter, demon, or anything, okay? Dude, you know me.”

The younger Winchester looked sadly at Dean before continuing the exorcism.

Dean began to feel desperate. He wanted both Sam and Bobby to believe him. “I'm human! You've got to believe me!” He felt tears come to his eyes. “I'm human.”

Sam still kept reading, circling Dean.

“Why would I lie? To you of all people?” He cocked his head while looking sadly at his brother.

He looked up at this, stopping close to the fireplace. “You've done it before, Dean,” Sam replied.

“Never about...” he trailed off, noticing his double was gone, replaced by the miner-wannabe. “What's that?” He was standing right behind Sam. Dean felt his body begin to shake as he glared at him. “It's him! It's the demon!” Dean pulled out his gun and pointed it at the demon. “Get your gun and shoot him! Shoot him now!”

He was holding the pickaxe where the wood met the metal, walking toward Dean. Dean stood up as best as he could with his hand cuffed to the bookshelf.

“There's no one there, Dean!”

He pointed at the demon with his gun. “He's right there, Sam! Shoot him! Shoot him now!!”

He could feel both Sam's and Bobby's eyes on him, as if they were looking right through the miner-wannabe. How could they not see him? He was standing right in front of Sam!

“What are you waiting for? Shoot him now! Gank his ass, Sammy! Just do it!”

The guy was a few inches away from him. He could hear his breath coming out louder. The guy looked to be exactly, if not about, the same height as Dean, so they were looking each other right in the eye. Well, gas mask to eye.

“He's right there! Shoot him!” His voice kept lowering until it was barely above a whisper, his arm falling to his side with the gun still in his hand. “Shoot him, Sammy! Gank him! Shoot him. Shoot him. Shoot him.”

Suddenly, as the guy disappeared, he felt it all come rushing in to his brain.

_He had been to the mine two days before, looking at the mining outfits, gas masks, and pickaxes._

_Darren Michaels was such a nice guy. Too bad he recorded himself having sex with women. He saw the miner-wannabe kill him. All it took was one hit with that pickaxe to his head._

_Of course, then came the day he and Sam visited the mine._

_He watched the miner-wannabe kill the actual miner before entering the chain-link chamber. Confused, Dean saw him take the helmet off before it changed to after the miner killed Darren. He was on his hands and knees. The wannabe was taking off his helmet before he took off the mask, revealing himself to be Dean. He was gasping for air before he looked up, seeming to stare straight at Dean._

_Back in the mine, Dean yanked off the gas mask and threw it on the ground. He had a cold, malicious look in his hazel-green eyes which flashed the tell-tale black as he closed the door behind him, bending the metal lock with the pickaxe to lock himself in before his eyes changed back. Dean pulled the gun out of his pocket and shot a few inches from where he was standing while he was killing the miner._

_The scene changed to Dean standing in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. Sam was out, probably doing research. Dean's eyes flashed black before he screamed, his reflection now wearing the mining outfit before going back to his normal reflection with his eyes closed. When they opened again, they were back to normal._

_Back at the mine two days before coming, Dean watched himself try on one of the gas masks._

Dean opened his eyes and gasped. He hadn't even realized he closed them in the first place. At that moment, Dean remembered that he had been let out of Hell. Not scratched and clawed like the others. They knew how dangerous he had become, which was why they let him out in the first place. They knew what he could do, what he would do. They knew what he was capable of after spending three years down there. Alastair made sure, before he came topside, to put a lock on his...new self.

Yet, he still saw it. All dressed up in a mining suit, gas mask, and carrying a pickaxe. It still came out when he was asleep, and awake, killing humans with that pickaxe. He was lucky he got his old meat-suit back, the deep scratches left by the hellhounds gone, like he hadn't been their chew toy at all.

“There's no one there, Dean,” he heard Sam say, capturing the demon's attention.

He kept his eyes locked on the floor, breathing slowly.

“There's someone there, Sam,” Bobby stated. “Isn't there, Dean? Inside you?” He could feel Bobby's eyes watching him.

Dean looked up before slowly turning his head to face Bobby. “Oh yeah. There is.” His voice was still the same, except darker and more dangerous. There was a coldness in his tone that, as he saw, caused Bobby to shiver.

He could feel the shock coming from Sam as he turned to face him, a malicious grin on his face. “I guess there's no point in hiding the truth from you. Is there, Sammy?” He let his eyes flash the tell-tale black before exiting the devil's trap without much trouble, causing Sam to look even more shocked.

“H-how...?” Sam asked.

“I didn't crawl out. I was let out intentionally. You see, I'm not as high up as, say, Lilith, but I'm pretty high up.”

He heard Bobby come after him, which he deftly dodged and kicked him into the wall before bashing his head in with the gun. Dean aimed the gun at Bobby's head and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit its intended target, killing Bobby instantly.

Dean turned to face his brother and pushed him into the wall. Sam groaned.

“Just think, Sam. If I had come out two years earlier, I wouldn't have to do this.”

“You don't have to, Dean! You have a choice.”

He glared at Sam as he searched the weapons bag until he found the one he wanted, which just so happened to be the pickaxe. His glare changed to a smirk at the look on Sam's face as he aimed the weapon at his head. “Good night, Sammy.”

He then swung.

*~*~*~*SPN*~*~*~*

Dean sat up with a start, breathing rapidly. He checked the clock. 3:30 AM. He sighed in relief when he realized he only had one week left. The hazel-green eyed hunter froze at the thought, remembering his nightmare.

If he did become like that (and Ruby said that he would after a long time in Hell), he wouldn't come back up. He'd make sure of it.

“Dean?” he heard Sam ask sleepily.

“Everything's fine. Just go back to sleep, Sammy,” Dean responded automatically.

Luckily, Sam didn't question it and fell back to sleep.

Dean watched Sam's slow rhythmic breathing before seeing himself swinging the pickaxe at his own brother's head.

He shook himself as he got out of bed to grab a beer. He knew no human would enjoy killing his brother and father figure, not in a million years. Still, how he felt while doing it in his nightmare...

Dean shuddered. He didn't want to find out what he would be like after spending three years in Hell. If his nightmare was right, he would be one sick son of a bitch, in his opinion at least. He knew he couldn't tell Sam about this. Truthfully, it had scared Dean half to death. The ominous words of his dream self from three months back echoed in his head.

_“You're gonna die! And this, this is what you're gonna become!”_  
  
He took a sip of his beer, shaking himself out of his memories. The words he had said before that were true. Why shouldn't that one statement?

Dean didn't notice when he finished the beer or walked to the bathroom, but he did. He guessed he must have been too lost in his own thoughts. He put his hands on the sink and looked into the mirror. He looked tired, worn out. The weight that had been on his shoulders, however, was gone. It had been ever since he made the deal a year ago. Suddenly, he noticed his eyes bleed black before the gas mask, helmet, and the rest of the mining costume appeared in his reflection. Instead of looking at it more, Dean went back to bed, shutting off the bathroom light.


End file.
